


Glass Splinters

by Sterling_Canary



Category: Bully (Video Games)
Genre: (If you can believe it), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And he did that for the whole game, Basically Derby acts as Gary's "Benefactor" for his schemes, Canon-typical swearing, Carrying, Do I even ship them? Jury's still out on that one, Hurt/Comfort, I cannot convey how sorry I am for writing this, Jimmy and Bif show up at one point, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Injuries, Mentions of canon-typical violence, Not graphic but they are mentioned, Oh yeah and Gary goes to Happy Volts at the end, POV Derby Harrington, Post Chapter 5 Mission "Final Showdown", Pushing My Rarepair Agenda, Rated T for language, Tending to injuries, The only atypical thing is that Derby says fuck at one point, This was written and beta'd over the course of one day, fun fact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 06:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30050970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sterling_Canary/pseuds/Sterling_Canary
Summary: After Gary gets punched through that glass skylight, he's left with a lot of injuries. Who's there to tend to them? None other than Derby Harrington.
Relationships: Derby Harrington/Gary Smith
Comments: 5
Kudos: 3





	Glass Splinters

“I could dispose of the body, Crabblesnitch, sir.”

He _certainly_ could have worded _that_ much better--Smith wasn’t dead, or, at least, Derby didn’t _think_ he was--but it got the point across. And who else could carry out the task? Hopkins, who was currently attempting to untie Crabblesnitch from his chair? Crabblesnitch, who was...well, tied up? Smith himself, who was either dead or severely injured? No, Derby was the only one in Crabblesnitch’s office who was currently able to perform the task.

“Well, seeing as you’re here, Mr. Harrington, go ahead,” Crabblesnitch nodded.

Derby stepped further into the office, trying to figure out the best way to pick Smith up. He was lying on his stomach, with no apparent injuries, but he was sure that would change once he flipped him on his back.

As usual, he was right. Smith had cuts up and down his arms, along with shards of glass and many, many bruises, presumably from his fight with Hopkins. None of the shards seemed to have gotten _in_ his eyes; although, one of his eyes was black. Most of all, there was a good amount of blood, which would certainly stain his jacket once he picked Smith up, but it could be replaced. Derby placed one hand under Smith’s back, the other under his legs, and carried him out of the office.

Bullworth campus was deserted. Each clique probably was tending to their wounds and cleaning up the messes made within each clubhouse. His _own_ clubhouse, Harrington House, was most certainly trashed, but the maids could always clean it up later.

And clean it up they would have to. Derby hadn’t gotten a good look at the front of Harrington House until now, but it was utterly trashed. The brick exterior was covered in graffiti slandering the Preppies’ good name, and the perfectly-manicured lawn had been pulled up, trampled, and...was that evidence of _burn marks_ ? God, he would have to get the _gardeners_ out here, as well. Luckily, the bushes were _just_ intact enough for Derby to hide Smith in while he cleared out Harrington House of the Preppies.

The inside of Harrington House was as trashed as the outside. Their poker tables had been overturned, the logs in the fireplace had been thrown around, staining the ornate rugs, walls, and hard-wood floors. Much of the artwork on the walls, including the portrait of Derby over the fireplace, had been slashed, and all of the suits of armor had been knocked over and dented. He briefly wondered whether a lawsuit would stand, but that thought could be explored later. For now, he had Preppies to clear out.

“Derby! You’re back!” Bif greeted.

“I am,” Derby nodded. “You’ll be pleased to know that Hopkins has quelled the riot.”

“He did? Excellent!”

“Indeed. I do believe that Crabblesnitch has something to say in a bit, so you had best head off. I shall join you in a moment once I get changed.”

On his word, the Preppies filed out of Harrington House. As they did, Derby examined their injuries. They were bad, certainly, but nothing worse than what they dealt to each other when they boxed. Once Derby was sure that all of the Preps had left, he went back to retrieve Smith from the bushes.

“Hiding me in the bushes like some shameful fling? I expected better from you, Derby,” Smith coughed.

“So you _are_ alive,” Derby rolled his eyes. “Can you walk?”

“Probably not. Will you carry me again?”

“Fine.”

Derby grudgingly picked up Smith and carried him up to the residential floor. Derby’s room was at the very end of the hall, overlooking every other room. Coincidentally, it was also the biggest.

“Are you able to open the door?” Derby asked. Smith reached out and pushed the door open the smallest amount possible. Derby sighed and pushed the door open the rest of the way with his shoulder. Once safely inside, he laid Smith down on his four-poster bed and went to close the blinds.

“Wow, when I joked about me being your ‘shameful fling’, I didn’t mean it,” Smith laughed.

“This is just precautions, Smith,” Derby rolled his eyes. “You’re not the most popular guy on campus at the moment, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Duh. I got knocked through a glass ceiling, dumbass.” As if to punctuate his point, he raised his glass-cut arms.

“I _know_ that, _Smith_ .” Derby turned on the lights and shut the door. “You're lucky it was _I_ who carried you out of Crabblesnitch’s office. Who knows what Hopkins would have done.”

“Probably woulda dumped me on the steps of the school while waiting for the ambulance-slash-cops-slash-Orderlies to take me away.”

“They’re certainly still doing _that_ , but at least you can wait in comfort.”

“I’m hoping for an ambulance. These glass splinters hurt like a bitch.”

“Are you just going to complain about _that_ the whole time you’re here?”

“Depends on whether you do anything about it.”

Derby sighed once more, “I shall see what I can do.”

He went into the bathroom, searching for his pair of tweezers. He’d seen some of the construction workers who worked on his father’s mansion do something similar for wooden splinters. Surely, it would work on glass splinters as well.

“You mind turning on some music?” Smith asked when he emerged from the bathroom. “It’s too quiet in here.”

“You’re quite demanding, you know, especially for someone who fell through a glass ceiling,” Derby frowned.

“Takes one to know one.”

Derby rolled his eyes, but he obliged the request. He grabbed a random CD he owned, put it in his stereo, and hit play.

“Man, you treat _all_ of your shameful flings like this?” Smith asked, impressed.

“You are _not_ a shameful fling, and if you don't stop _saying_ that, I won’t pull out the glass splinters,” Derby said through gritted teeth.

“Fine.”

“Good.”

Derby sat down beside Smith on the bed, grabbed his left arm with more force than strictly necessary, and got to work.

“You sure had good timing,” Smith commented.

“Ah, so you were awake for all that,” Derby said, grabbing onto one of the larger splinters and pulling. Smith hissed in pain.

“Yep. Also heard you call me a corpse.”

“I did not call you a corpse.”

“ _Really_? If I recall correctly, you said ‘I could dispose of the body, Crabblesnitch, sir.’ Sounded like you were calling me a corpse to me.”

“ _I_ _did not call you a corpse_.”

 _Though I could have worded that_ much _better_ , he added in his head.

“Whatever. Still, your timing was perfect.”

“Thank you. Once I woke up from my Hopkins-induced coma, I knew he would be coming for your ass next. And my father's sponsoring the renovations, so I’ve seen the building layout.”

“You couldn’t’ve told me that _before_ I went announcing my plan on the rooftops?”

“You didn’t ask. Besides, that’s more of a _you_ problem.”

“Well, Mr. Benefactor, it’s not like _you're_ completely innocent.”

Derby examined Smith’s left arm, ensuring all of the visible glass splinters had been removed, before moving onto the right arm.

“Who knew you could do medical shit?” Smith snorted.

“Boxing requires extensive knowledge of medical care,” Derby informed him. “Do you know how many cuts and bruises we must tend to after every match?”

“But _you_ don’t actually tend to the wounds, do you? You pay people to do that.”

“You give us _far_ too little credit. We _can_ actually function without the people we pay.”

“Oh really? Who’s gonna clean up Harrington House?”

Derby didn’t answer, instead choosing to pull out another splinter.

“Uh-huh, yeah, I thought so.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

One last splinter removed from the right arm, and then it was time to move on to the face.

“Hey, do you happen to know how to get glass out of clothes?” Smith asked. Derby could feel his breath on his face.

“I don’t get thrown out of windows very often, so no,” Derby answered.

“I’m surprised that’s not something Jimmy tried to do to you.”

“You think he can throw _me_ out of a window? Please, Smith, you’re delusional.”

“Oh, I’ve certainly been called that, and a lot worse. Paranoid, narcissist, sociopath, psychopath...that’s all the ones I can remember off the top of my head.”

“Narcissist. Now _there’s_ one I’ve heard before.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Ever been called an egomaniac? That’s Johnny’s insult of choice.”

“I’m surprised he’s smart enough to know that word.”

“I, as well.”

After removing a few more glass splinters from Smith’s face, he seemed to be mostly glass-splinter free. Derby would let the hospital handle the rest.

“When do you think that ambulance is going to get here?” Smith called as Derby was cleaning his tweezers.

“Eventually,” Derby answered. “And you don’t even know whether it’ll _be_ an ambulance. In fact, they would probably have called one by now if it was going to be.”

“Then will you carry me outside? There’s no way Happy Volts will let me outside.”

“I’ve already carried you here. What more carrying could you want?”

“ _That_. You don’t have to carry me far. Just to the steps of Harrington House.”

Derby dried off the tweezers before dropping them back in his drawer. “ _Fine_.”

Once more, Derby carried Smith, this time to the requested steps of Harrington House, where the pair sat in silence for around thirty minutes.

“Smith,” Crabblesnitch said, walking up to them. “Ah, it seems you’ve removed much of the glass, Mr. Harrington. Thank you.”

“It was nothing, Sir,” Derby shook his head.

“Either way, the Orderlies have arrived to take you to Happy Volts. They will patch you up there.”

“You’ll have to get them to come here. I can’t walk. Derby carried me all the way here,” Smith smirked.

“Then if you will, Mr. Harrington?” Crabblesnitch said before walking away.

“Guess you’re carrying me again!” Smith laughed as Derby rolled his eyes.

“ _Of course_.”

The pair followed Crabblesnitch to the front of the school, where a white van was parked, manned by two people dressed in gray clothes.

“I suppose you’re _their_ problem now,” Derby sighed.

“Guess I am,” Smith frowned. “Well...carry me to the van and lie me down in the padded back.”

“I’m sure they have seats in the van.”

Derby was right; there _were_ seats. He carried Smith into the open doors and sat him down. 

“I’ll stop by and visit,” Derby said.

“Yeah, like they’ll allow visitors,” Smith scoffed.

“Oh, believe me. They’ll let me in.” Derby patted his pocket to emphasize the point.

“Oh, how could I forget?”

Just as Derby was about to step out of the van, Gary leaned over and planted a kiss on Derby’s cheek.

“A parting gift,” Gary chuckled. “See you during visitor hours!”

“Yes. See you then...Gary.”

**Author's Note:**

> Blame the Incorrect Quote Generator for this one (specifically:  
> Person A: Hey, Gary? I need some dating advice.  
> Gary: Just because I'm with Derby doesn't mean I know how I did it.)
> 
> I was originally going to post this on anonymous, but what more do I have to offer fandom than rarepairs? Nothing.
> 
> I looked up how to remove splinters for this fic, and it turns out, using baking soda and water is actually the most effective method, but it takes a day, and I did not have that kind of time. I also looked up how to remove glass from clothes, and there are actually a lot of different methods to do it. The one I was originally going to use was vacuuming the clothes, but I didn't end up working it in.
> 
> Big thanks to my friend for betaing this!
> 
> Criticism, comments, and kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
